


Under Some Terrible Spell

by sharkwingduck



Category: The School for Good and Evil - Soman Chainani
Genre: Alternate Universe - Japeth switches Sophie out for Nicola, Angst, Multi, but maybe something more? who knows???, cursing (characters say the fuck word), cursing (literal curses are cast), i'm making the end of tedros's big trilogy about my faves and no one can stop me, japeth is a bastard man, nicola hort and sophie are all buds, past hort/ravan, past kei/rhian, scim mind control, the mlm couples really do not fare well and i apologize, we're gonna deal with kei's feelings but i'm not bringing rhian back
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25113793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkwingduck/pseuds/sharkwingduck
Summary: One brother weds the Witch of Woods Beyond and becomes the One True King. The second brother is restored by her blood. However, in a twist of fate, Lionsmane’s prophecy never mentions Sophie by name.Incidentally, Nicola has been getting pretty good at magic lately.
Relationships: Hort & Ravan (The School for Good and Evil), Hort/Nicola (The School for Good and Evil), Hort/Sophie (The School for Good and Evil), Kei & Rhian (The School for Good and Evil), Nicola/Sophie (The School for Good and Evil), Sophie & Hort & Nicola (The School for Good and Evil)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 25





	1. The Other Witch of Woods Beyond

**Author's Note:**

> First fic on ao3, woo! This started out as a mini au based on Hort's line about being just as worried about Nicola if she were in Sophie's shoes from chapter 5 of OTK, and it kinda spiraled from there. Everything is the same except Lionsmane's prophecy says one of the brothers must marry "a powerful witch from woods beyond" to become king, not Sophie specifically. I also went ahead and made Sophie and Nicola a little closer than we're shown in canon a) so I could justify Nic going after Sophie without a plan and b) because it's more fun that way. The first chapter is mainly a retread of the end of Sophie's ACOT arc from Nicola's perspective, but it picks up from there. Huge thanks to Kate (pumpkinpaperweight) for looking this over and making sure it wasn't incredibly boring or unreadable. Enjoy!

Sophie and Agatha’s friendship was defined by Agatha’s unwavering faith in Sophie’s ability to do Good.

Sophie and Nicola’s friendship was defined by Nicola’s unwavering faith in Sophie’s ability to get herself killed. 

At least, that’s what Nicola had been telling herself as she tore through the woods en route to Camelot, clinging for dear life to the driverless rickshaw she’d borrowed from Gnomeland. It wasn’t that she was convinced Sophie was a traitor or an opportunist or a devil minx or any of the insults Tedros had been spewing at her since her sudden departure (though the possibility he was right certainly ate at her).

Was Sophie ambitious? Power-hungry, even? Of course. Nicola had known that since reading _The Tale of Sophie and Agatha_ and even before it was written. It had been obvious when Nicola watched her parade around Gavaldon doing “good deeds” in her ludicrous poofy dresses and glass slippers, trying to curry favor with a wicked kidnapper that may or may not exist, all on the off chance that he might whisk her away to become a princess. Either she was ambitious or completely delusional. 

_Probably both,_ Nicola had thought, shaking her head as she swept the patio of her papa’s pub and watched Sophie try to sing to pigeons in the square. 

Like everyone else Nicola met in the Woods, Sophie was different in person. Since she’d met Sophie, they’d insulted each other, fought over a boy, fought over a mongoose, begrudgingly tolerated each other at the behest of said boy and mongoose, and clashed with each other over nearly every aspect of the quest they were on together. Plus, she cheated horribly at chess.

But Sophie was also clever and funny and truly loyal when it counted. For every time they’d argued over the specifics of some obscure fairy tale or the merits of weight lifting versus yoga, there had been another time where they’d sprawled out on the floor of the captain’s quarters on the Igraine, discussing the next move in their quest, gossiping about the first year students, or complaining to each other about Agatha’s bossiness or Hort’s...Hort-ness. Heaven knows he gave them enough material, whether either of them were dating him or not.

Even if Sophie could be petty and ridiculous, she was one of Nicola’s best friends in the Woods. What’s more, no matter how much Sophie pretended not to, Nicola was pretty sure she cared about her too. 

Nicola’s personal feelings aside, she also knew that Sophie wasn’t one to forgive easily. And no matter how ambitious she was, Nicola didn’t buy for a second that Sophie considered Rhian or his brother worthy of even a shred of forgiveness.

No, if Sophie was going back to Camelot, that meant she had a good reason. She must have figured something out on the mission Reaper had given to her and her friends, something that Agatha and Tedros hadn’t. But as sure as Agatha was that Sophie knew what she was doing, that Sophie had a plan to help them, Nicola knew that Sophie was also impulsive, emotional, and desperate to prove herself. Whatever Sophie’s plan was, it had just as much a chance of blowing up in her face as it did succeeding. And if it did, Nicola had to be there for her. 

That was the thought that had propelled Nicola as she broke away from Reaper and the gnome guards that had been escorting them, as she magically shrank and pocketed the crashed rickshaw she’d found near the entrance to Gnomeland, and as she enlarged it in the clearing. She repeated it like a mantra, drowning any thoughts or reservations that might slow her down. Hort was relaying the information they’d uncovered in Foxwood to Tedros and Agatha, and she was helping Sophie. It was that simple. This was Nicola’s story too, now, and the time had come for her to act. If she let herself overthink this, her friend could be dead. Adrenaline pumping, she’d blasted the rickshaw with less a spell and more of a plea: _Take me to Camelot._

The rickshaw hit a bump in the road and pitched violently, throwing Nicola sideways as she fought to keep herself in the passenger seat. The vehicle shuddered and started to slow. Focusing on her panic and fear for her friend, Nicola lit her finger and hit the rickshaw with her glow once more, magically righting it and picking up speed.

_Just let her stay out of trouble until I’m there to help her,_ Nicola thought, her knuckles straining as she gripped the seat. She fixed her eyes on the spires of Camelot castle that were coming into view over the treetops. _Just let her survive until I get there._

\---

Sophie, unsurprisingly, did not stay out of trouble. By the time Nicola arrived at the castle, just enough guards had gone to investigate the fallen chandelier in the foyer for her to sneak in through the kitchen staff entrance relatively unbothered. 

Hurrying through the narrow passage Nicola had found herself in, she thanked her lucky stars for four things. First, that she’d devoured books at school just as voraciously as she had in Gavaldon, including unrequired (and sometimes off-limits) spellbooks and books on Camelot’s historic architecture; second, that an old grandma gnome had taken pity on her during their stay in Gnomeland and finally, **finally** unlocked her fingerglow, so she could actually cast the spells she’d been studying (apparently the skeleton keys the schools used were manufactured in Gnomeland); third, that she’d taken to magic like a fish to water, something she would be extremely proud of if she’d had the time to feel pride; and fourth, that the cheap wallpaper Rhian had picked to renovate the castle with was already warping in Camelot’s seaside humidity, clinging to the frame of the secret passage she’d sought out and making it laughably easy to spot.

Unfortunately, that was where Nicola’s luck seemed to stop. While she had a vague idea of where the network of secret passages could take her, they were old and run down from disuse, each new turn inundating her with cobwebs and dust. On top of that, they were pitch black aside from the few pinpricks of light that shone through from the rest of the castle, making it difficult to know for certain where she was going. Even if she could navigate them effortlessly, she still had no idea how to track down Sophie when she could only see into the castle through vents and tiny peepholes. 

As she crept aimlessly through the dark, she could hear snippets of conversation from the castle. Panic rose in her throat. The guards were searching for someone, and there was only one person it could be. Sweat started to pool on the back of Nicola’s neck as she faltered, feeling lost. _What did Sophie do? Why did I think I could bring her back on my own? Why didn’t I tell Hort to follow me?_

Suddenly, a voice made her stop short. 

“King’s all in a tizzy...fightin’ over somethin’...yellin’ coming from the bath…”

If Nicola found Rhian, she’d find Sophie.

Once she found Sophie, Nicola could make a plan. 

Between Nicola’s brains and Sophie’s magic, they might just be alright. 

Purpose renewed, Nicola peeked through a vent, got her bearings, and sped towards the king’s chambers. 

\---

On the bright side, Sophie’s plan had worked perfectly. One of the two usurper brothers lay dead on the floor. The other stood before her, beaten, bloodied, and driven to near madness by the death of his twin at his own hands. 

She had made just one grave miscalculation.

A scream caught in her throat.

“Not Rhian,” she choked.

Not Rhian!

_Not Rhian!_

“Oh?” said the Snake.

A gold scim floated off his king’s suit and sheared the wet, matted locks of his hair to a close-skulled crop. Then it stroked the Snake’s face like a pen, magically tanning him to a burnished amber. 

“More Rhian than the real thing,” he smiled.

Sophie lunged for the door and yanked, feeling her lungs turn to ice when she realized it was bolted by scims. She backed against a wall, watching the Snake’s slow advance. He was in no rush. He knew she was trapped. 

Sophie silently called for the one person she could think of that could fix all this:

_Agatha!_

_Agatha, help me!_

Agatha didn’t come to rescue her.

Instead, the wall exploded.

Japeth stumbled back, shielding his face as chunks of drywall rained on him. A pair of arms wrapped tightly around Sophie’s waist, pulling her into the hole that had just been created as if her guardian angel had suddenly appeared. 

Sophie’s heart swelled. For once, could her wish have actually come true? She turned to face the person she knew would save her, to face the person who would always save her, to face--

“Nicola?!”

“This way, hurry!” Nicola gasped, clearly spent from the effort of creating the blast. Her black curls were ruined with spiderwebs and flecked with plaster, her eyes wild. She grabbed Sophie’s wrist and sprinted down a dark stone corridor, dragging Sophie behind. 

Sophie’s mind felt full to bursting and completely empty all at once. _He’s after us. Nicola saved me. Rhian is Good. Rhian is dead. Agatha? How did Nicola get here? Nicola saved me. Japeth killed Rhian. Should I say something? “Thank you,” right? It’s dark in here. The Snake is alive. Why isn’t Nicola in Foxwood? I don’t know where we’re going. Nicola saved me. Where’s Hort? Tedros. The Snake has Excalibur..._ but these thoughts faded before she could hold onto any of them, her brain unable to decide what to process first. 

Sophie had no idea how long she and Nicola were running, but it seemed like only seconds had passed before she was squinting into daylight, having followed Nicola out of a hidden exit Sophie didn’t remember going through and into the orangerie. She felt a stab of grief despite herself. Less than an hour ago she’d started to see Rhian as a person again, a person with dreams and goals and loved ones. A boy who could be reasoned with, if she played her cards right. Small as it was, she’d seen a chance that this could all work out. But it didn’t matter anymore. Rhian was dead. Japeth killed Rhian. The Snake still lived. 

She opened her mouth to call to Nicola, to tell her what happened--

Something heavy tackled Sophie, pinning her to the ground. Nicola heard her screech and stopped, whirling to face her. Kei had Sophie on her stomach, pinning her down with his knee and tying her hands together behind her back. “Saw you making a break for it from the balcony,” he said stonily. “Whatever game you’ve been playing, it’s over.”

Before she could respond, a tree root burst from the ground and swung into Kei's chest, throwing him off of her and into an orange tree. He wheezed, the wind knocked out of him. Sophie wriggled into a seated position and scooted away from him, her hands still bound. Nicola moved to cut her loose. 

“Once we pass through the gardens we can escape through the sewers,” Nicola panted. “Then it’s just a matter of--”

“You don’t understand!” Sophie cut her off. No time to critique the second part of Nicola’s rescue plan. No, there was something even more foul and terrifying afoot than the idea of setting foot in Camelot’s defunct septic system. “Rhian is--” 

“Dead, I know!” Nicola said. Kei made a choked sound. “I mirrorspelled the king’s chamber through a crack in the wall to make sure you were in there,” she helped Sophie up. “Tedros and the others need to know that they’re up against--” 

“HALT!” 

The girls turned to face three pirate guards blocking their way forward, swords drawn. “Rhian” sprinted from the opposite direction to meet them, flanked by two more pirates. Kei slumped against the tree, visibly relieved. 

“Slippery little bitch...if I didn’t need you as queen, I’d cut your eyes out, tie bricks to your feet and throw you into the Savage Sea…” he snarled, limping slightly as he approached. Kei raised his head and looked at him questioningly. 

Nicola stepped in front of Sophie, bright yellow glow aimed at the Snake. The same root that had dispatched Kei lashed behind her. “Not a step closer,” she warned. Sophie could see her legs shaking. 

The Snake stopped short and looked at Nicola, eyes slitted. “You’re an Ever, aren’t you?” he said appraisingly. “Never went to your worthless school, but I don’t think princesses should be able to do _that...“_

Sophie tensed.

“I’m a Reader. I read up on magic,” Nicola spat. She stood straight up and puffed out her chest in what she hoped was an intimidating posture. “And I know how to do plenty more than that.” 

The Snake raised his eyebrows. “ _Plenty more,_ you say? Well, if that’s the case, you don’t sound like a princess at all,” he said smugly. “In fact...you seem a lot like a _witch.”_

Before either girl could react, a gold scim flew off his suit and sliced into Nicola’s arm, drawing blood. She yelped and recoiled, losing control over the root and sending it slithering back into the ground. Kei’s body went rigid with shock.

Japeth floated his scim towards a cut on his hand, smearing Nicola’s blood onto the wound. 

They watched in stunned silence as it spread across his hand all on its own, healing him and leaving perfect, milk-white flesh that immediately filled in with a too-perfect tan.

“Surprise after surprise,” Japeth murmured. “One brother marries the Witch of Woods Beyond. The other is healed by her blood. But remind me, Sophie,” he purred, eyes fixed on Nicola, “did Lionsmane ever say it had to be _you?”_

Nicola’s eyes went wide with horror. Her brain stalled as she tried to find a spell, a trick, an argument, anything that would get her out of this--

But the eels were already coming. As they speared into her ears from both sides, her consciousness fading, the last thing she heard was Sophie screaming her name.

Then all was dark.


	2. Monkey's Paw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sophie goes for a walk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Official soundtrack for this chapter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b5S6mM_B_Ek (don't worry, it's just VGM, this isn't a songfic or anything). 
> 
> Thanks so much for all the sweet reviews last chapter! They really meant a lot and I'm glad y'all are digging it so far. Hope you enjoy this one as well!

When the static in Sophie’s head finally cleared, the first thing she registered was the sound of shoes crunching through snow. It took her a few seconds to put together that the shoes were hers.

Everything was a blur after Nicola went down. Sophie faintly recalled Japeth giving instructions to the pirates before they dragged her away, screaming and thrashing. She didn’t remember what he’d said.

The next thing she remembered was unhitching a horse from a merchant’s wagon by the docks. She didn’t know how or why she was there, or where the pirates had gone. She mainly remembered angrily fumbling with the attachments, frustrated that her fingers kept sticking together and slowing her down. 

_Why…?_ Sophie glanced at her hands. They were streaked with a dried, rust-brown substance that caked under her fingernails. She swallowed thickly, mentally taking inventory of her body. No new wounds that she could feel, aside from the gash on her cheek from Japeth’s scim. Definitely not her blood. Maybe it was better that she didn’t remember that part.

From there Sophie’s memory only got worse. She picked a direction and rode. The sun set and rose and was close to setting again. She’d apparently ditched the horse at some point. And now she was walking a snowy trail that was familiar in a way she couldn’t quite place, suddenly aware of her surroundings after a day and a half of running on autopilot. 

Tears welled in her eyes. She was so _stupid._

_This is what happens when witches try to play hero,_ she seethed at herself. _Killing Rafal was a fluke. Try to help and you’ll only ever make yourself look like a fool. Step out of line and one of the_ real _heroes has to waste their time and risk their life putting you back on your leash, just like—_

A cold wind blew through the trees and knifed into her wet cheeks. Sophie wiped viciously at her face, but the tears wouldn’t stop flowing. Her stomach burned with anger.

Why hadn’t she _done_ anything?! She was the Witch of Woods Beyond. _THE_ Witch of Woods Beyond, no matter what Rhian’s--no, Japeth’s--imposter Pen said. The most powerful sorceress to grace the halls of the School for Evil in two hundred years. Why had she just stood there like some slack-jawed idiot while Japeth...while Nicola…

A sob ripped its way out of her.

She thrust her hand out and gripped a nearby tree for support, trying to collect herself. 

Deep down, Sophie knew why. She knew from experience that there was only so much terror you could feel and death you could witness in a day before your mind went numb and everything started to feel like a bad dream. That was why Nicola had taken charge. Why Nicola had pushed her magic to the limit, even though she’d been exhausted. Sophie had been in no state to _remember_ any spells, let alone cast them.

_It wasn’t your fault,_ a small voice inside her soothed feebly. _It’s only natural._

A larger, louder voice hated herself even more for not being above it. 

—

The last glimmers of twilight were slowly fading from the woods when the last piece finally snapped into place. Sophie was shaken from her thoughts by a golden flash in the sky. She craned her head to see the message above the treetops: 

_**The wedding of King Rhian will proceed as scheduled. See spellcast for details.** _

Sophie smirked in spite of herself. Japeth may not need her blood anymore, but every leader in the Woods knew that _she_ was Rhian’s fiancé. How would he explain this away? Tell them that she’d gotten cold feet and run away, only for him to instantly find a new bride? A bride they’d recognize as one of Tedros’ friends? A bride who was clearly terrified, possibly drained of her blood, and had _eels_ hanging out of her ears? The rulers of the Woods would smell a scam and cry foul immediately. Maybe Nicola could even escape in the confusion. 

Still, she couldn’t dispel the cold feeling of dread that the curt announcement sent through her gut.

As Sophie tore her eyes away from the golden text and regained her bearings, she realized that the trail felt familiar because she had walked it before—part of it, at least. Perhaps not this part exactly, but there was no mistaking the way that the thick snow blanketed the trees and rocks, making them look like sparkling abstract sculptures. For whatever reason, she was heading towards Avalon. 

Why Sophie had gone this direction in the first place, or if she had consciously chosen it at all, was a mystery. She supposed it made some sort of sense. She certainly couldn’t go back to Gnomeland. If Japeth didn’t send his men to kill her, Tedros might do it for him the second she showed her face. Sherwood Forest was an option, but a risky one. Without Robin, Sophie didn’t know if she trusted the rest of the Merry Men to hold down the fort themselves. Besides, if she were Japeth, it was the first place she’d look. 

She still needed somewhere safe to regroup however, and as far as she was concerned the Lady of the Lake owed her. Owed everyone, really, for forging the stupid sword that started this mess in the first place, but her especially. She wasn’t sure for what yet, but she’d certainly think of at least five things before she got to Avalon’s gates. Besides, they had so much in common! Two miserable excuses for witches who thought they were doing the right thing but instead made everything a thousand times worse. Maybe Sophie had come this way because her subconscious, or fate, or the Storian, or whatever had been propelling her forward figured she ought to be exiled to Avalon too.

A light, powdery snow began to fall just as the last rays of the sun slipped beneath the horizon, painting the woods in hazy shades of indigo. Sophie was just starting to worry about what she’d say once she arrived at her destination when she stopped short on the wide wooden bridge she’d been crossing. 

Voices in the distance.

_Shit._

Sophie snapped her head back and scanned the path behind her instinctively. Finding nothing, she looked ahead up the incline across the bridge. Small lantern lights twinkled through the trees. Listening closely, she could make out uneven hoofbeats. Sounded like a large group.

_Shit, shit, shit._

Sophie spun around wildly, looking for somewhere to hide, but the area around the river was too open. _There are probably scores of people out traveling to your phony wedding,_ a voice in her head chided her. This one sounded Nicola-adjacent, she realized with a confusing pang of annoyance and grief. _You had a whole day to figure out what to do if you ran into any of them and you spent it_ moping?!

Sophie cursed herself. The hoofbeats were growing closer, the voices louder. It was dark enough to cloak her to an extent, but the caravan had numbers and the higher ground. If she waited much longer someone would probably see her scrambling away. She flitted uselessly back and forth for a few moments before burying her hands in her hair and squeezing her eyes shut in exasperation.

_Shitshitshit goddamn idiot fucking—_

Her eyes snapped open as clarity suddenly struck her. She looked down at the bridge beneath her feet.

_Still better than a sewer._

—

Stuck shivering under the bridge until the caravan passed, Sophie did what she often did when trying to get through a cold, miserable situation: she imagined she was in Lady Lesso’s frozen classroom, sitting through a lesson in Curses & Death Traps. Closing her eyes, she tuned out the rumbling of the wagons and let her former mentor’s voice echo in her mind;

_“Excellent answer, Vex. I think you’ve earned back the right to speak.” Lesso swished her finger, and the board Vex had been writing on clattered to the floor as he gasped for air through his freshly unsealed lips._

Sophie remembered this lesson clearly. It was the second part of her lecture on wish traps, and Sophie had been listening in rapt attention, searching for some way she could trick Tedros into wishing for her as his princess. She nearly snorted at the memory, but stopped herself when she remembered that snorting a) was unattractive and b) would surely alert whoever was crossing the bridge at the moment to her presence. 

_“That brings us to our next trap. Tell me, who here has heard of a monkey’s paw?”_

_Four or five Nevers raised their hands, Ravan and Anadil among them. Hort looked like he had been debating raising his hand as well, but weighed the risks of giving Lesso a half-baked answer and thought better of it._

_“A monkey’s paw is supposed to give the owner one wish for each finger on the monkey’s hand. Make a wish, snap off a finger, and the wish comes true,” Ravan answered as Lesso nodded. “Problem is they’re cursed so any wish you make with ‘em turns sour. You get what you want, but in the worst way possible. They usually get sold to dumb Ever tourists in Mahadeva an’ Ooty and the like. Ruins a lot of vacations.”_

_“Correct! However, a well enchanted monkey’s paw can do far more damage than the piddling little trinkets you’ll find in street markets,” Lady Lesso spoke as she paced down the aisle._

_“Depending on the animal the paw is taken from and the strength of the caster, wishes made with a monkey’s paw can have catastrophic, even fatal consequences. In the right hands, the curse can be powerful enough to worm its way into the owner’s heart and soul, seeking out their most secret, unspoken desires,” she’d continued, eying each student deliberately to ensure they were paying attention. “Even the pettiest fleeting thought can be twisted to ruin or end multiple lives...including your own, if you aren’t careful.”_

_Her eyes bored into those of her students, who had gone very still. “...which is why this curse must be handled very, very delicately.”_

_After waiting a moment for this to sink in, she broke eye contact and turned to her desk. “At the front of the room, you’ll find cadavers of various rodents, lizards, and other small animals. I’d like you each to take one of these and return next week with a mummified paw or foot suitable for this enchantment. You will be breaking into teams of two and....”_

Sophie’s eyes opened, a tickling sensation on her nose breaking her focus and startling her out of the memory. At some point during her daydream, the dubiously loyal magical dress she’d quite honestly forgotten she was wearing had morphed into a thick fur coat, not unlike the one she’d lost to the slimy beaver that had nearly killed her friends the last time she was in Avalon. She snuggled into it begrudgingly, still not quite trusting it after learning who it had belonged to.

Monkey’s paw on her mind, Sophie recalled a thought she’d had the morning of that ill-fated first visit, seething in the captain’s chambers of the _Igraine_ prior to their landing:

_“If that brat thinks she can replace me in my own fairy tale, she ought to go through every horrible thing I went through first.”_

The pettiest fleeting thought.

_Snap._


End file.
